


Where The Legs Grow From

by pink_freud07



Series: Act on Three Fronts [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demisexual Will Graham, Established Relationship, Establishing relationships, F/F, F/M, Fingering, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Full Quad, M/M, Mostly Safe Sane and Consensual, Multi, Penis In Vagina Sex, Polyamorous relationship, Season 1 Alana, Trans Will Graham, everyone is bi, will doesn't need to be saved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:08:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pink_freud07/pseuds/pink_freud07
Summary: Upon entering the main hall, Hannibal scans the crowd. There are a variety of familiar faces: those he knows directly from his time at Johns Hopkins; some from the opera and other social circles associated with the Baltimore cultural-arts community; others from various fundraisers and benefits; and a few from Bedelia’s connections with the vineyards of the Virginian wine revolution. He gives each only long enough of a glance to recognize them, but his eyes land and linger on another particular pair, one face familiar and the other not.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom/Will Graham, Alana Bloom/Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter/Bedelia Du Maurier, Bedelia Du Maurier/Alana Bloom, Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter, Bedelia Du Maurier/Will Graham, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: Act on Three Fronts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858702
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	Where The Legs Grow From

Hannibal hands the keys to his Bentley off to the valet as his wife’s firm and delicate fingers slip into the bend of his elbow. Her diamond blonde hair is styled to perfection. Not styled up as she might have done for other occasions, it falls in choreographed cascades against her shoulders and around her face. A necklace glints in its frame between the curls and the neckline of her dress. The dress itself fits exquisitely and the fabric is nearly regal in color and texture. The celebration they’re attending does not necessitate such splendidness but Hannibal certainly isn’t someone to complain about a flair for the fashionable.  
  
Upon entering the main hall, Hannibal scans the crowd. There are a variety of familiar faces: those he knows directly from his time at Johns Hopkins; some from the opera and other social circles associated with the Baltimore cultural-arts community; others from various fundraisers and benefits; and a few from Bedelia’s connections with the vineyards of the Virginian wine revolution. He gives each only long enough of a glance to recognize them, but his eyes land and linger on another particular pair, one face familiar and the other not.  
  
The couple’s attire is more subdued than Hannibal and Bedelia’s and they are dazzling still. Alana has her hair curled and swept together to one side. It highlights the smooth skin at the side and nape of her neck, as well as the beginnings of her shoulder, which sits exposed by the cut of her vivid blue dress. The cut of her male companion’s suit isn’t quite as exact as it could be but it still manages to hint at the shape of his shoulders and waist. It is perhaps a shame that it makes him less eye-catching than he could be, but Hannibal finds it hard to imagine anything that could truly compete with the handsomeness of the man’s face. His hair is swept up and away from his to highlight the beauty of his eyes, curve of his nose, and beard, which is pleasingly shaped and trimmed. It is perhaps the relative drab of his dark navy suit that keeps him subdued.  
  
Not one to wave another down, he simply waits for Alana to notice him. He casts subtle looks in her direction as he makes casual conversation with one of Bedelia’s vague acquaintances and is pleased at the way Alana’s expression alights when she finally catches a glimpse of him. She whispers to her companion, who is half-engaged in a conversation with a doctor Hannibal recognizes but has chosen not to recall. With a small nod of his head, Alana’s companion seems happy enough with an excuse to leave the conversation behind.  
  
Bedelia has kept her hand at his elbow, throughout their conversation. He looks down again at her to subtly pull at her attention. As her acquaintance recounts them with stories of petty woes, Bedelia meets his eyes. He looks meaningfully at the couple approaching them as she gives him a small smile in recognition.  
  
“Hannibal!” Alana greets. The degree of openness in her enthusiasm is out of place at an event like this, but not impolite. Her smile is wide and sweet and unrestrained.  
  
“Alana,” he greets warmly in return, not quite so open but no less enthusiastic. “It’s good to see you again.”  
  
Her smile becomes shyer and softer as she peeks up from behind a curl of her hair. “It’s good to see you,” she replies coyly.  
  
“Let me introduce you,” he says, well mannered. He shifts his arm away from Bedelia’s grasp at his elbow to instead wrap around her waist as he introduces, “Alana, this is my wife Bedelia. Bedelia, this is Alana. She was a colleague during my time at Hopkins.”  
  
Bedelia politely nods her head in greeting and asks, “Psychiatry or surgery?”  
  
“Psychiatry,” Alana reassures. “And he is being too generous. We weren’t exactly _colleagues_. Hannibal was my mentor.”  
  
“Ah,” Bedelia breathes and she scans her eyes across the remaining stranger.  
  
“Oh!” Alana exclaims when she catches the look. “Yes, sorry. This is my partner, Will Graham,” she says gesturing to her companion with a hand against his arm. She looks at Will as she explains, “Will, this is Hannibal Lecter.”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you,” Will contributes tersely. His jaw clenches and his eyes blink rapidly at the middle distance.   
  
“A pleasure,” Hannibal reassures with a smile. He watches Will’s eyes seem to absorb his surroundings while his gaze also holds a detachment. The expression on his face is so stoic as to be almost non-existent and something in his solid posture casts him in stark comparison with the fawning and blustering that usually dominates this kind of event. “Tell me, Will, what do you think of the Johns Hopkins alumni?”  
  
When Will huffs a laugh, it turns his stone-faced expression sardonic with a glint of teeth and thin, tense lips. “Seems to me that you like to show off,” he remarks.  
  
“An easy conclusion to come to,” Hannibal tuts, a challenge, an encouragement. “Competition and prestige are easy primers for showboating.”  
  
Will hums, hides his teeth in a teasing smile. “A case of chicken and egg: do they flock to the prestige first or is reveling a desperate search for restitution?”  
  
“Perhaps both,” Hannibal replies, another push.  
  
“Power taken away as a student, power regained in a diploma paired with prestige,” Will muses, tsk-tsking with the click of his tongue. “To become an authority to see that power taken from others and claim it as a rite of passage.”  
  
Alana looks at Will like she’s heard it all before, though not annoyed by the repetition. It’s a wry smile and affectionate eyes that display familiarity. The conversation topic may be the source of the repetition. Although it may also exist in choosing – not for the first time – to be amused by her partner’s penchant for philosophy and verbal sparring, perhaps knowing there’s no hope to entirely curtail it.  
  
“Are you an instructor yourself?” Hannibal asks to test his theory.  
  
“Will teaches at the FBI academy,” Alana informs him, clearly proud. “That’s how we met.”  
  
The glint of Will’s teeth is not quite so sharp, replaced instead with a softer, safer smile towards his partner. Will’s hand sits gently at Alana’s shoulder and his eyes flicker to hers as hers flicker away towards Hannibal. “I doubt my students think as fondly of me as Alana does of you,” Will says, easily, no malice or disappointment.   
  
“That may depend on which variety of fondness your referring to,” Bedelia purrs at Hannibal’s side, making his lips twitch in pleasure.  
  
“How did you come to be a couple?” Hannibal asks them.  
  
“He invited me to save a wounded racoon. Had me stumbling in my cutest boots on frozen, overgrown grass,” Alana explains with a fond wrinkle of her nose. “Had me wondering if it truly was a date or just my tendency to overthink.”  
  
“Questioning if you’re on a date _during_ a date is a time-honored staple of queer culture,” Will justifies with a huff of a laugh, slipping his hand further to the exposed nape of her neck.  
  
“That it is,” Alana agrees with a sweet laugh and a nearly imperceptible shiver. She looks at Hannibal as she asks, “How did you two get together?”  
  
“I’m afraid we followed a different convention,” Hannibal concedes. “We met as colleagues, became friends, and pursued a relationship.”  
  
“Hannibal is a difficult man to resist when he sets his mind to something,” Bedelia remarks. The placement of her hand on his chest is as affectionate as it is demanding. It is a true enough statement in many ways, but Hannibal knows from experience what it sounds like when Bedelia baits her traps.  
  
“I get the sense that you are not a woman who gives way to resistance,” Will observes. The way his brow wrinkles and head tips seems almost goading. Hannibal has to restrain himself from smiling at the prospect his wife being offered a challenge.  
  
“Resistance is a precipice,” Bedelia expresses. Hannibal can see in her eyes that she is pleased by how Will could be caught – not the simple, unknowing stumbling that triggers a snare, but someone toeing towards the destination she planned. Her tone is alluring and breathy as she declares, “There is exhilaration to be found in a free fall.”  
  
As Will seems to sense the need to momentarily bypasses the corner he’s being corralled to, he turns back to Hannibal and asks, “Tell me, Dr. Lecter, what Alana was like as a student?”  
  
“Skilled, naturally,” Hannibal answers, feeling the press of Bedelia’s hand on his chest growing harsher and stronger in interest. The air is charged with the intention and keenness he feels radiating off of her. He lays a hand over hers as he looks at Will and reminisces, “Perceptive, accomplished, but perhaps caught just a little too much in her thoughts, pulled two steps from the present moment.”  
  
“She does like to think,” Will remarks sweetly with another brush of his fingers against her neck. She looks at him with the same coyness from before.  
  
“You realize the PhD candidates thought we were having an affair,” Hannibal declares, just enough playfulness and nostalgia to conceal possibility in plausible deniability. “Why didn’t we?”  
  
“You were already having an affair,” Alana teases, a natural flush arising pink and lovely underneath the powdered blush on her cheeks.  
  
“Having one affair does inherently not preclude having another,” he argues and he watches Will’s eyebrows as they lift, creating curious creases on his forehead.  
  
Bedelia sees it too and she interjects, “Will, could I interest you in a drink?”  
  
Will hums quietly and easily as he nods in agreement. He kisses Alana on the temple and she gives another small shiver at the drag of his fingers as he pulls away. Bedelia loops her arm around Will’s elbow instead in her usual elegant, commanding sort of way.  
  
“Will does that too, you know?” Alana says as their partners disappear in the crowd in the direction of the bar.  
  
“What?” he asks, with a conspiratorial tip of his head. “Have affairs?”  
  
“Are they affairs if they’re sanctioned?” she muses.  
  
“I supposed it depends on the intention,” he suggests. “A passing fancy or an ongoing arrangement.”  
  
“What intentions have your affairs had?” she asks, her voice taking a deeper, more intentional tone as her brows slightly furrow in consideration.  
  
“My wife and I have had occasional interludes,” he explains, thinking of the one-off experiences they’ve had on occasion. “We have been interested in a more lasting connection but haven’t found a proper match.”  
  
Alana glances off into the distance once again and when Hannibal joins her, he sees Bedelia whispering very nearly into Will’s ear. Her body is held close but just out of reach. Will could shift his hand ever so slightly to touch her but remains caught in the static of open air. Hannibal feels the creeping fog of fond arousal with the deeply ingrained knowledge of what it’s like to want to lean close enough to catch a breath and hope that he might be allowed to hear a word. Bedelia pulls at desire and curiosity and mystery so masterfully.  
  
“They look nice together,” Alana admires, using their joint observation of their partners as an excuse to shift closer at Hannibal’s side.  
  
“Yes, they do,” he agrees and encourages her by shifting himself until he is aligned with his chest nearly against her shoulder. He would be whispering in her ear if not for the difference in height between them.  
  
When she looks up at him from under her lashes and purses her lips, it is a splendidly pretty sight. “We would look nice together,” she tells him.  
  
“Yes, we would,” he confirms and imagines what Will and Bedelia would see if they looked back now: the blue of Alana’s dress against the dark maroon of his suit, the comfort of past familiarity, the nostalgia of long ago desire left unappeased. He never would have been allowed to touch Alana then and feels delightful longing with the potential offered to him now.  
  
“I’d have to ask Will,” she whispers with certainty and promise.  
  
“I agree,” he confirms. “I have known Bedelia long enough to anticipate what she will say, but it is always best practice to ask, of course. Then perhaps, we can all discuss it together.”  
  
Alana nods to him and walks away with the excuse to get a drink and the intention to interrupt. He stands on his own, waits, and watches as Alana interrupts Bedelia’s enchantment. His wife concedes the interruption gracefully. It’s no matter; she will use the delay and denial to her advantage. Bedelia returns to Hannibal alone with a wine glass in each hand. She hands him the glass in her left hand and, as he smells and swirls the deep burgundy liquid in his glass, she takes another deep sip of her own. All the while, they make knowing, anticipatory eye contact over the tip of their glasses.  
  
“Did you and Will have a pleasing conversation?” he asks as an opening.  
  
“We did,” she confirms with a quirk of her lips. Hannibal is wonderfully curious about what kinds of words they shared. It is a happy thrill to watch someone experience his wife for the first time and a delightful riddle to watch her begin to unwrap and unravel a pleasure they can share.   
  
“Alana suggested the potential for us all to spend some time together,” he informs her. “Would that be something you’d like?”  
  
She elegantly sips and swallows another drink of wine and says, “I would.”  
  
“I thought you might,” he remarks. “Do you anticipate Will being agreeable as well?”  
  
“He seemed _interested_ ,” she observes with a self-satisfied smile, the kind of keen observation she uses to her advantage in a variety of contexts professionally and personally.  
  
“By all accounts, you are the one who is difficult to resist, my dear,” he admires as he takes her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles.  
  
When Will and Alana return, Will gives a quiet nod of his head as Alana confirms their interest and Bedelia elects to inform them that everyone is in agreement. It is the new prospect that makes the night bearable. Inconsequential small talk is left behind in favor of purposeful discussions of contraception and exchanges of STI statuses as displayed in the test results saved in each of their phones. Required bouts of conversation with other acquaintances are punctuated in stark relief by discussions of safe words, boundaries, and what words they each like to use for various parts of the body.  
  
During these discussions Hannibal can sense a particular hesitance in Will. When Will met his eyes again at the foursome’s regathering, it was not with the curiosity of someone observing another’s interest in his partner but the acuity of someone determining interest for and within himself. As their conversations and discussions unfold, his questions and interest direct most confidently towards Bedelia and Alana. Meanwhile, Will’s attention on Hannibal feels incomplete. The blink of his eyes is studying but quickly, hesitantly drops away when Hannibal returns the attention. He trusts Will – and trusts Alana’s trust in Will – enough to not interpret the hesitance as disagreement or disapproval.  
  
During a lull in between the speeches that interrupt dinner, he turns towards Will at his side and whispers in his ear, “Have you been with men, Will?”  
  
Will pulls away slightly to twist his neck and look at Hannibal through the corner of his eye. “As an exception,” he states passively.  
  
“What qualifies that exception?” Hannibal asks, his tone dispassionate and curious in encouragement.  
  
“When they interest me,” Will replies.  
  
“I won’t presume to be able to capture your particular interest in just one night,” he recognizes easily, raising his wine glass to swirl and sip.  
  
“No,” Will says with a tight, lopsided smile. “Not in one night.”  
  
Will’s hand disappears under the table to reappear in the light grip just below Hannibal’s knee. There is an encouraging squeeze as Will’s smile tips further. Hannibal finds himself enticed by the possibility of earning Will’s favor. He is confident in his ability to interest Will with time and, alongside his wine, drinks down the possibility of someday getting to kiss that careful, crooked smile from his lips.  
  
After dinner, the event begins to wind down as signaled by the many others beginning to tire and disperse. During their discussions, Alana and Will informed them that they have a room reserved at the nearby hotel that was recommended by the event organizers. Will and Alana anticipated a late night: Wolf Trap is a long drive when darkness and tipsiness could be factored into the equation. Will makes a passing comment about already having a dog sitter, which leads them to learn that Will and Alana are in possession of eight dogs in total. Hannibal can tell from Bedelia’s expression that this isn’t the most pleasing news of the night, but that’s a problem for a later day.  
  
They decide to use the hotel room rather than Hannibal and Bedelia’s home, agreeing that a neutral place may be best for experimentation and exploration – particularly since it’s already been paid for. They part for the drive and join together yet again in the hotel lobby. During their walk together down the hallway, Alana takes Will’s hand in hers and Bedelia’s hand finds its way to a firm and elegant hold on Hannibal’s shoulder. There is a thrum of electric current under his skin. He can feel it sizzle around the press of his wife’s finger tips.  
  
Will retrieves the keycard from his pocket with ease and opens the door for them. Upon entering, Hannibal eyes the room and its plainness – typical of a hotel of this quality. It is a stark white to attempt to demonstrate expense and cleanliness. The furniture includes the basic staples: a desk and chair, a sizable armchair, an upholstered bench at the end of a large bed. Will and Alana’s suitcases sit partially unzipped by the dresser.  
  
Hannibal slips the button of his suit jacket free before he taking a seat in the arm chair. He spreads his legs to accommodate Bedelia as she seats herself sideways in his lap. He can feel Alana’s eyes on them from where she stands in the center of the room. When he looks, she has her eyes locked on Bedelia as his wife looks back in a captivating, tender kindness. Hannibal lays a hand against Bedelia’s thigh with the other at her waist as stabilizing contact he knows she will accept. Anything further will be based on her dictation.  
  
There is the thud of the door closing and Will walks up behind Alana to curl his arms around her waist and hold her close against his body. He kisses along her neck as she tips her head back against his shoulder, gasping open and breathless. She places her hands on top of his, strokes his strong, solid forearms, and squeezes as another gasp breaks free.  
  
They are truly a beautiful couple. Will fits so well against her back and the deep browns of their hair pair well. They hold a classic beauty, a comforting kind of attractive that is simultaneously conventional and extraordinary. It is in distinct contrast with Hannibal and Bedelia, whose looks perhaps fall further from convention. The sharpness of his cheeks and deep set of his eyes set him apart just as Bedelia’s particular beauty with its combination of soft and hard that gives her the air of the ethereal.  
  
When Will’s lips pauses in his ministrations, Alana makes teasing, curious eye contact with him. Will tips his face against hers in a soft, comforting nuzzle and pulls back his hands to settle at her hips. Hannibal can’t hear what Will whispers to her but he can see the serene smile it puts on her face and how the smile is then reflected back in Will’s expression.  
  
As Alana steps away from the enclosure of Will’s embrace, Bedelia takes her leave from Hannibal’s lap. While Hannibal and Will may share names with conquerors, Bedelia, who shares her name with the mythic Celtic goddess of fire and poetry, is the one vacating her throne in preparation to acquire another one. As Alana replaces her on his lap and he catches out of the corner of his eye the sight of Bedelia crowding into Will’s space once again. For Will, who may be used to Alana’s soft willingness, Bedelia’s sharp intensity may cut particularly deep and pry him open like the mechanisms of a Finochietto retractor.  
  
Alana settles into his lap much like Bedelia did, but melts against his body in a way that his wife does not. She does not hold her touch or kisses just out of reach. She instead easily presses her lips to his. They pause for a moment to savor the feeling, the novelty of a new touch and sensation with a new partner. Once they’ve had a chance to savor, they descend into something hungrier, tasting for different sensations at different angles and presses.  
  
Alana takes his hand in hers and guides him to press against her breast over her dress, then guides it further to dip fingers beneath fabric. He cups her breast, relishing the delicious feel and shape, the soft skin that fills his palm. She moans into his parted lips as he grazes his thumb across her nipple and he returns the air and sound when her hand rubs at his cock as it starts to strain in his trousers.  
  
When their kisses become more sharing breath than making true contact, he murmurs, “Let’s get properly undressed, yes?”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” she sighs.  
  
She stands up and discards her heels first, slipping them away with practiced hands and tossing them to the floor. As Alana turns to unzip and rifle through the suitcase, Hannibal looks to Bedelia, who holds Will’s tie tightly in her grip, pulled taut and unforgiving. Then in the instant Hannibal blinks, they collide and Bedelia’s hand grips instead at Will’s solid, stubbled jaw. They kiss ardently and Hannibal watches Will rubbing greedy hands along his wife’s body, along her hips, across her ass, up her back.  
  
Hannibal’s never wanted to manhandle Bedelia, has never felt the urge to. Bedelia has always had a quiet ferocity that seemed to demand intricacy in accordance. Watching Will’s hands grip and demand doesn’t change how Hannibal sees her. It does, however, peak his interest in the hands themselves and the fierce body and mind attached to them. When he watches Will now, he sees wildness, a rough and tumble like the burning flame of a firecracker.  
  
Hannibal does not allow himself to become too distracted. There will be plenty of time to experience and observe. As he rises to his feet, he slips his suit jacket from his shoulders and arms to fold in half and lay against the desk. The buttons of his shirt come next, as well as his tie. Alana returns to him and presses a condom in its wrapper and a single-use packet of lube into his palm. He receives it gratefully as he gratefully receives her hands pushing his open shirt off and away.  
  
She turns her back to him and makes a show of pulling her hair unnecessarily further to the side, tipping her gaze at him enticingly in an unspoken question. He unzips her dress in silent response and pushes the straps down and away just as she did for him. He then unclasps her bra and pushes those straps aside too. The dress fabric clings at her hips and refuses to fall away except under the encouragement of his touch. The rest of their clothes pool together in piles on the floor as they climb into bed together. Alana lays against pillows that have been primped and fluffed and rests on top of the plush comforter neither of them bother to get under.  
  
“You look lovely,” Hannibal compliments and Alana’s cheeks grow rosier. “Can I call you sweetheart?”  
  
“You can,” Alana agrees with a smile. “Will does.”   
  
“It suits you,” he murmurs as he settles himself against her side, propped on one elbow, pressing down some of his weight against her from shoulder to hip. He brushes the back of his curled fingers against Alana’s pink cheek and smiles into a kiss against her darker pink lips.  
  
The crash of bodies against the mattress makes his teeth sink a little too harshly into her lip and she gives a huff as she licks at it, likely checking for blood. He casts another look towards the source of the disruption to discover Will and Bedelia too have discarded their clothes and Will too has Bedelia on her back. While Hannibal and Alana have contented each other with kissing at each other’s lips, Will mouths wide and hungry down Bedelia’s naked body and between her legs.  
  
Once Alana’s confirmed there’s no blood, they bring their lips together again as Hannibal drags his hand from her neck, across her breast, and down her belly. His fingers find her wet and willing and he rubs two slickened fingers on either side of her clit. Her hand grips at his shoulder as a moan rushes against his lips and when he adds pressure, she closes her eyes and gasps. Careful direct touch makes her squirm, which shifts her thigh to brush against his cock. The dry skin to skin contact is as harsh as it is pleasing and it makes him long to sink into the warm and slick and wet.   
  
First he works in one finger, then two, then three. With each one she initially whines in pleasure and whimpers when she asks for another and he drinks the ease of her satisfaction from her lips. With three fingers sunk in deep, Hannibal shifts his other hand and brings to his teeth the two packets curled inside. He tears both of them open between his teeth, one at a time, first the lube then the condom. He then rolls to his back and strokes at his cock. The points and edges of his teeth press harshly against his lip as he bites down at the rushes of sensation with the slide of his slick grip – _almost_ what he wants.  
  
Alana takes the condom and rolls it on and Hannibal squeezes lube onto his palm as she moves to straddle him. She whimpers as she lowers herself slowly and surely and he groans as he sinks in deep at last. Once she seats herself fully, she waits for a moment, clenching lightly, releasing, and testing and he revels in the satisfaction and anticipation that prickles at his skin. She doesn’t make him wait long for her to adjust and she soon plants her hands against his chest and _moves_ , lifting and lowering and shifting and sinking.  
  
Pleasure heightens and blurs. There is a orchestra of moans — Alana’s high breathy ones, Bedelia’s harsher, louder ones, Will’s muted, smothered ones. Even Hannibal’s own deeper ones manage to resonate amongst the mix. Bedelia’s moans take a higher, sharper pitch so familiar that it sends a reflexive pulse of pleasure and arousal surging through his veins and gripping at his muscles.  
  
Even as Alana flexes her belly and thighs in effort, her skin is soft and pliant under his touch like clay willing to be molded. He holds tight to her waist and creates indents beneath his fingers as she moves faster, just as desperate as he is, perhaps fueled by the deeper, choking, panting breaths that started as Bedelia’s moans tapered away. Pleasure pulls tighter and tighter with every pull out and push in and arousal pools in his belly until it releases when Alana comes with instinctive squeezes that have him spilling in pulses into the condom.  
  
Alana collapses forward onto his chest and tucks her face against his throat as their hearts hammer against each other beneath the layers of skin and muscle and bone. He contentedly rolls his head to the side on the pillow. Will is on his back beside him, chest flushed pink. He thinks Will’s cheeks might be the same shade, but Will hides it away under his hand spread wide. Sweat clings to his hairline and shines on the skin of his belly. Flashes of color dance around Will’s clit: Bedelia’s painted, manicured nails, two of them cut shorter than the rest.  
  
Alana shifts her hand to hold Will’s firmly, affectionately and Hannibal watches Will force a deep breath even if it stutters at the tail end. Will opens his mouth wider to pull in gasping, ragged breaths as Bedelia rubs the shaft of his swollen clit between two fingers then all of Will’s muscles seem to tense at once and release as one last moan rips from his throat.  
  
They all lay together in the still silence, cast in stark comparison to the cacophony of sounds, abundance of motion, and plethora of sights they’d feasted on. The bed isn’t big enough for the four of them to comfortably sleep in together, so Hannibal and Bedelia will have to take their leave back home at some point, but no one seems rushed, all contented with basking in the satisfaction that lingers after well-pleased arousal and desire. Eventually, they will separate and tidy up. Will and Alana will intertwine together when Hannibal and Bedelia step away. They will watch as Bedelia does her best to fix the curls that were uncoiled by frenzied touch and Hannibal dons his wrinkled shirt and trousers.  
  
Hannibal will see the glint in Will and Alana’s eyes at having mussed such fussy, high society types and he will know that he and Bedelia have met their match.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have some ideas for other oneshots in this series, but I'm happy to hear others' ideas too! Please feel free to let me know what you'd like to see. I might not be able to fulfill everyone's wishes, but I'd love to give it a try!
> 
> Also, if you're interested in reading more, make sure to subscribe to the series instead of this specific fic, because that's where the next part will be!


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